Strongest Link in the Daisy Chain
by wandertogondor
Summary: Being on lock down had finally taken its toll on Elizabeth Winchester to the point where talking to the King of Rotten seemed more appealing than talking to her own brothers. Co-written by the wonderful Jenmm31!


**Jenmm31: Hello! Here is the wonderful sisfic story that wandertogondor and I wrote together! It contains some slight season 9 spoilers, but if you are up to episode 12, then you are in the clear! We had a great time writing it and would love to hear your thoughts/suggestions! Eventually we were thinking of doing a follow up chapter :)**

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The air was thick and musty in the hallway from lack of windows or fresh air but Eliza kept walking until she was standing in front of a particular door. With one large swing, she opened it, calling out, "Hi, Crowley," and walking into the roomy dungeon where the King of Hell sat chained. She pulled up a chair to the metal table and sat opposite him.

Distinctly uninterested but vastly amused, Crowley replied, "What do you want, Duckling?"

She shrugged one shoulder, leaning her elbows against the tabletop; her jaw awkwardly hanging open over the heel of her palm which was propped under her chin. Crowley couldn't help but recoil in disgust - all three Winchester's shared a mutual lack of intelligence and absence of good looks with the primordial cavemen.

"I just wanted to give you a little company." she said casually, like chatting with the King of Hell was an everyday occurrence.

It was.

"Where's Moose and Squirrel?"

Elizabeth raised her eyes questioningly. "What is with you and your morbid fascination of referring to me and my brothers as animals?" When his only response was to roll his eyes and rattle the chains in opposition, she continued. "How are you doing?"

"Bloody fantastic." he jeered.

"You want something to read, a magazine or something?" No answer. "Well, do you?" she continued to pry.

"Are you gonna keep giving me the third degree," Crowley scoffed. "or are you going to get Gigantor to take these cuffs off and let me mosey around, you know, stretch my legs out a bit?"

A smirk spread across the hairpin curve of the youngest Winchester's lips, sly and unassuming. "I always thought you liked being in cuffs, Crowley. I bet your Fergus MacLeod enjoyed being chained up by his ladies, got the meat stick for it too - double digits."

"I _was_ very happy." Crowley speculated as his smirk matched hers; his eyebrows curled briefly in thought. "Unfortunately, now I'm the face and stubble of a moderately successful literary agent - a self-righteous prick, might I add."

"You seem to be filling his shoes just fine. Here." She set a bottle of 67 year old Glencraig on the metal table along with two glasses on the table in front of them both. "Heard you've been drinking this since grade school."

Without a moments opposition, Eliza poured out a liberal amount in each glass and pushed one toward the demon. Crowley stared at the glass as the liquid continued to slosh back and forth, contemplating if he should drink it or not. Truth was, he was dying to taste some liquor, especially the good kind.

Elizabeth noticed his hesitation and smiled before taking a long, savory swig. "Really?" she chuckled, not even attempting to mask her skepticism.

"What?" he answered defensively. It wasn't every day he cracked open a bottle of booze with a Winchester. Never could be too sure about their true intentions. They plastered on the nicest of faces when it suited them.

"You think I'd lace it with holy water?" she snorted, clearly amused.

"Never can be too careful. You are a Winchester after all," he responded as he picked up the glass and swayed it back and forth, mixing the liquid around. He couldn't take the temptation anymore and slowly started to sip it as he closed his eyes, waiting for the stinging to start. He opened his eyes, pleasantly surprised at the rich flavor. "I suppose I've underestimated you, Miss Winchester. Isn't that a surprise?"

"I have better things to do than go around watering down perfectly good liquor," she replied before taking another drink.

Elizabeth didn't realize that Sam had just walked down into the dungeon and overheard her last comment. Before she was even able to put the glass back down on the table, she heard his heavy footsteps barge into the room.

"Better things to do? Yeah, like tracking down Abaddon," Sam sneered as he came over and stood beside his sister, looking down at her critically. "So you better start complying, Crowley," he spat, tossing a stack of papers down on the table to emphasize his point. He wasn't in the mood for Crowley's games anymore. Sam glanced between his sister and Crowley, suddenly noticing the glasses in their hands.

"Sorry, Moose. Maybe later. I'm in the middle of a tea party with your sister right now," Crowley threw back, every word dripping with sarcasm. He smirked and raised his pinky up to add to the 'English tea party' effect. "She understands me."

Sam clenched his jaw, boring his eyes into the King of Hell's head, but his words were directed at his sister. "Wait in the hall." he ordered in a low voice.

"Take the Moose, leave the whisky," Crowley quickly threw in, still possessively holding his glass, failing to snatch the bottle of Glencraig before she did.

Elizabeth slowly did as her brother dictated, leaning her head back and finishing her drink before starting for the storage closet directly in front of the encased dungeon. A smug smirk forcibly pulled at the hairpin corners of her lips when she heard Sam's footsteps match cadence with hers all the way to the library. As she entered, she saw Dean sitting slumped in a chair, book in hand.

"You've got to stop, Elizabeth," Sam snapped, slamming the palms of his hands on the tabletop, eyes intently following his younger sister while she sat beside Dean. "Crowley's dangerous."

"I'm slightly disturbed at the rate it took me to forgive him during his human relapse," she shrugged whilst weeding out a book on Egyptian lore from the dusty stack littered across the table. She looked up and nonchalantly stated with more clarity, "You know, after he had all those people killed, murdered and pillaged." Quite frankly, it had been easy for her to look past all of his mistakes after he had saved her brother from the angelic ass who hopped a ride. She felt that if Crowley was willing to help Sam, then maybe deep down, he wasn't so bad afterall.

"He's trying to get to you!" Sam threw his hands up like it was obvious. "He's weaseling his way into your head!" He paused, looking at his older brother, waiting for a response. "Dean, help me out here." he pleaded with exasperation.

The oldest Winchester lifted his head with a blank expression, eyebrows raising when his name was brought up. "I'm sorry, what?" he asked, completely oblivious to the conversation that had been going on. As of lately, it was much easier for him to block out everything that was going on around him. His mind was solely focused on one thing: hunting for Abaddon and killing the bitch.

Elizabeth stifled a laugh and pretended to be fully committed to reading the words on the yellowed pages, hoping Sam would fade away into the background if she ignored him long enough. She was aware of Crowley's conniving mind games and she was prepared to wheedle her own way into his head to get the information she needed. She wasn't reckless, contrary to the popular belief going around. It took a lot to get to Crowley. But she knew his one weakness and that is what drew her toward him: his humanity.

"I'm not dumb, Sam."

"You're sure fooling me, Eliza!" he spat.

"Dean…" she whined, leaning her forehead against her oldest brother's upper arm, visibly annoyed with the conversation at hand.

"I'm sorry, shortstop, did you say something?" Dean responded aloofly even though the glint of a smile stood shining in his green eyes. And, despite the teasing tone in his voice, Dean turned to Sam in an attempt to convince his younger brother otherwise. "She's a smart girl. Well, duh, she's my sister. But do you honestly think Crowley's gonna make her his little bitch? _Honestly_."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can hold my own, Sam," she scoffed. "I don't need you two morons watching and griping over my every move."

Sam shifted where he stood, trying to stay rooted but struggling to stay strong under the pair of imposing eyes. He had always tried to protect her from what he knew would be impending doom, but her Winchester stubbornness was getting in the way this time. "Fine," he settled, gritting his teeth slightly. "If something happens, don't say I didn't tell you so."

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to refrain from replying. Normally arguing with her brothers was just part of the natural order of things, but this was one fight she didn't see the point of continuing.

Dean looked from his sister over to his brother, both of them seemingly caught in a staring match. Sam raised his eyebrows after a moment, dragging his eyes toward her and silently demanding some sort of response. Instead of taking his bait, she casually stood up and started walking out of the room, making sure to ram her shoulder into him as she went by.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh. "Seriously Dean? You're not even going to take my side on this one?" he burst out when she had disappeared, frustrated that he wasn't getting any back-up.

"Yeah, no way I'm getting caught up in one of you guys' bitch fights again. You handle it." Dean answered unconcerned. He picked back up the book he had been searching through, holding it in front of his face, signaling an end to any further conversation.

"But Dean, think about it…" Sam's booming voice trailed off as Eliza rounded the end of the hall.

She was far enough away now that she couldn't make out the words, but their voices still echoed through the halls. She needed an escape from Sam's know-it-all-tone and Dean's lack of caring. She was desperate for better company. And so she found herself gradually gravitating toward the dungeon again.

She walked down the dark, cemented gray hallway and paused for a moment in front of the dungeon door. Glancing around, she spotted the liquor bottle sitting on the dusty old table just where she had left it. As the door hinges began to creak, Crowley resorted to shouting, "You better have my cheeseburger this time, Moose!"

Eliza smirked as the door swung open fully, coming into Crowley's line of sight. She held up the bottle triumphantly. "Rude to come visit and not bring a housewarming gift," she joked as she took her seat opposite him once again.

"Aahh, much better than a cheeseburger," he said, content.

There was a moment of silence as she refilled both of the glasses that were still sitting on the table.

"Something on your mind?" Crowley asked, reaching out and grabbing his glass. He didn't exactly care one way or the other what her response was, but something inside of him told him to ask - maybe it was the humanity talking.

Eliza chuckled before taking a long, savory taste of the liquor, flatly stating, "This whole Abbadon mess is just like_ The Wizard of Oz_."

Taken off guard, Crowley stared back at her, clearly puzzled. "Come again?"

"Haven't you ever read the book?"

"The King of Hell doesn't have time to read. I saw the movie." He paused, eyes narrowing when Eliza started to chuckle. "What? Judy Garland was a sight to behold in her time."

"Well then you know what I'm talking about." she said, taking another drink.

"Oh goodie, story time," he drawled sarcastically, but to square with himself, he didn't mind. Hearing a Winchester ramble on about nothing of interest or pertinence to him was better than sitting alone in the dark, lost in his own empty thoughts.

"Well, there's Dean, who's obviously the Scarecrow. I mean he has the brains, but he's all but lost his marbles now. Common sense has left the building and his eyes are fixated on only one thing, no matter the consequences or who it will affect. And Sam, the Tin Man. The guy has no freaking heart like he used to. It's like ice. Apparently he can't fathom forgiveness or acceptance anymore. And then there's - " Her eyes darkened in agitation when Crowley cut her off.

"There's me…the Great Oz. Mighty and powerful." he declared, his shackled arms only going so far out to either side in a dramatic gesture.

"Yeah, because the Great Oz would be locked up in a basement." Elizabeth smirked and watched his arms fall back down on the table, dissatisfied with his present state and her disheartening statement. "Clearly Abaddon is the all powerful Great Oz, although an evil one in this twisted version. All we have to do is find the yellow brick road and gallivant down it to kill the evil bitch." She hesitated. "And so that leaves me, the Lion."

"Really? I saw you being more of a pigtailed Dorothy. Frolicking through fields of poppies." Crowley responded pointedly as he continued to drink.

Eliza narrowed her eyes, giving him an annoyed glare. Pigtails were not her thing. Not now, not ever. She continued, "No, I'm most definitely the cowardly Lion."

"And what could actually make a Winchester cower and put their tail between their legs?" he mocked.

Her eyes dropped down to the table before she stared at the glass poised in her hand. Sam's warnings were starting to formulate in the back of her mind and the difference between what was good to say to Crowley and what wasn't sat on blurred lines. She had tried to ignore those thoughts, but it was to no avail. They were continually floating around. She sat up a little straighter in her chair. She had to prove Sam wrong. Crowley wasn't the awful, manipulating, conniving person Sam made him out to be. She had to test the King of Rotten to put her thoughts to rest once and for all. Now she had to see what would happen if he thought he could gain vital information.

"I have a lead on how to get to the yellow brick road and find the Great Bitch."

"Do tell, Duckling." Crowley pried. Despite the dimly lit dungeon, the way his face brightened was deceptively clear.

Dismissing his nickname with a roll of her eyes, Elizabeth caught her words and cringed. "Just don't know if getting the ball rolling on this crusade is the best move to make at the moment. Dean's got the Mark and Sam's still recovering from giving an angel a piggy back ride. And they're the strong ones, not me. I'm scared and I'm afraid that what little I have to offer them will finally get them killed for good."

Crowley leaned up to the table, elbows resting on it, as if he were very interested in the conversation. Eliza's gaze met his as she tried to read into his expression.

Without blinking, he asked, "And Abbadon…you know her location?"

She immediately picked up on the hopeful glimmer in his eyes, once again drawing out Sam's warnings in her head. Leaning back in her chair, she replied, "I don't see why you should care. Locked up here in this awful dungeon, you really can't do a whole lot to get her."

"Yes, yes, of course not. But this is just pillow talk amongst girlfriends, is it not?" he quipped, laying on some of his British wit. He leaned back in his chair, trying not to seem so eager.

There was a drawn silence which extended into the empty hallways and nearly consumed the entire bunker. Eliza stared down at her almost empty glass as thoughts swirled around in her head like a tornado. She couldn't believe she had been so honest with Crowley about her feelings for the latest Winchester soap opera. But that little bit of humanity inside of him was what drew it out of her in the first place. That same humanity was what made her see Crowley in a different light, thinking he was just another one of them. But there it was again, Sam's voice..._he's weaseling his way into your head!_

"I could tell you," She contemplated out loud, tucking her folded hands under her chin while her elbows kept her head propped up. "It's not like you're going anywhere, right?"

"That would be the general consensus." Crowley agreed with another unsatisfied rattle of chains. "Come on. Fill me in. It'd do you no harm."

Eliza twisted her lips to the side, deep in thought, before shaking her head with a knowing chuckle. "This is you trying to manipulate me, isn't it? Come on, Crowley. I almost had you figured for a good man."

Crowley couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. _Good man? Ha! She was the funny one of the bunch._

As Dean got closer to the dungeon, he could hear them talking; chatting and laughing like old friends. Eliza probably turned her doe-eyes on the King of Hell and had him eating out of her hand. And at that thought Dean smiled and kept walking with the blade in hand toward the garage, not so much as batting an eye because that was the woman he imagined her to be. That was the woman whose shoes he was hell bent on having her fill.

Sam, on the other hand, was less convinced of Eliza's cunning prowess. It reached across the span of his entire facial expression each time he was with her because she was harmless both from a distance as well as up close. She didn't have a touch of ill-will anywhere in her body and Sam could see that others saw her as an easy stepping stone. Eliza was too kind-hearted a girl to be involved in the window of the hunting world anymore. Sam knew she wouldn't be able to hack it if she got her way and came with them on hunts again. Hell, he even wondered if she would be able to protect herself when the Mark took its full effect on Dean.

"Abaddon's holed up with her new crew upstate." He heard Eliza saying a hushed voice.

Crowley answered shortly afterward, thoughtful. "Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you since there's not much you can do with knowing," she stated nonchalantly.

"And how did you stumble across this gem of information?" he encouraged her to continue.

Sam had his ear pressed against the metal wall in hopes of hearing his sister's answer more clearly but she didn't speak any further. He could just see her rolling her eyes and turn her face away from Crowley. She wasn't strong enough. She was trying to think of another lie. In order to help her out, Sam slammed the palm of his hand against the walls, indicating that he was close by. It didn't draw Eliza out to the hall but he could almost hear her let out a sigh of relief.

"Why the hell are you _always_ in here?" He plastered on an angry face as he entered the dungeon. Truth be told, Sam just wanted to get Elizabeth out of there as soon as possible so he could to ask her about the lead on Abaddon. "Go help Dean with research. Go, Eliza, go!" he yelled.

With a sour face, Eliza did as she was told. She was secretly thankful that Sam came in so she wouldn't have to risk Crowley spotting her bluff like a neon sign. She quickly decided that it was easier to lie to Sam and Dean as she nearly sprinted through the bat cave and into the library. Her hands worked surely to pull out a random book and to flip to any page so it would appear that she was concentrated on reading when Sam stormed in.

"Hey," he began softly, trying to calmly approach this, even though he was bursting inside. He sat down beside her at the table. "what's gotten into you?"

Eliza's eyebrows furrowed and she looked up at him incredulously. "Weren't you just bitching at me two seconds ago? Who the hell are you and what did you do to my brother?"

He put his hands up in surrender, dropping the act that wasn't really an act in the first place. At least Sam liked to think that he really was concerned about his sister's friendly affiliation with the King of Hell rather than worried about the information she could potential dole out as a result.

"You've just been acting borderline for the last few weeks." he plainly stated.

"I've had to put up with you and Dean for the last two weeks!" She threw back, harsher than she intended. "I mean, Dean - the poor guy's holding onto his own puppet strings the best he can with the Mark. And you! You're still butt hurt and mad at him about the whole Gadreel thing. So I hope you understand why I go and talk to Crowley. I'm stuck in the middle and sometimes the sanest person in this place is the goddamn demon. _Sometimes_, Sam, I just need someone to talk to since you're adamant on having me locked up in here on full security 24/7 because you don't trust me."

"Well, your track record doesn't exactly scream 'trustworthy', Elizabeth. Especially not now, after what I just heard you say in there!" He spat back, sitting up taller.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, completely confused.

"You knew where Abaddon was all this time and you didn't bat an eye when you told _Crowley_ before telling your _own brothers_." he snapped.

"Are you stupid?" Eliza laughed because she felt elated at her win. _See_, she thought, _I fooled you too._ "I don't know where the hell Abaddon is. I was just telling Crowley that to get him to shut up about it. And I was testing him to see if he'd have an ounce of loyalty to me."

"I don't believe you," Sam stated flatly.

"That's your problem, not mine," she replied, tossing the book aside on the table.

"Well then, how exactly did the topic of Abaddon come up anyway!" he demanded.

"We were talking about the Wizard of Oz," Eliza said as if the answer was obvious.

Dean interrupted them as he walked into the library carrying a handful of files. "Wizard of Oz? Man, that wicked witch was _bad_," he smirked, as if recalling a wonderful memory.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Eliza asked, almost about to turn her anger on Dean.

Dean tossed the files on the table in front of her as he paused to think about what'd he just said. He replied, "Oh, maybe I'm thinking of the porn version," he smiled devilishly before leaving to go into the kitchen.

"Gross!" she yelled in disgust, looking over at Sam as if to ask why their older brother was so okay with being inappropriate. Since they were momentarily distracted from their argument, Eliza took it as her opportunity to get up and walk away.

"Hey! We're not done talking. Sit down." Sam commanded, pointing down at the her seat.

"Yeah, Sam, I'm pretty sure we are. I know nothing about Abaddon so therefore I have nothing to tell you. Ergo, there is no more 'talking' to be done between us." Eliza threw back at him as she made her way to the kitchen. She wasn't the little sister he could order around anymore.

Sam watched as she left, feeling his blood start to boil. He _knew_ he had heard her telling Crowley the information. What he couldn't figure out was _why_ she had been talking to Crowley, of all people, specifically about Abaddon in the first place. It wasn't like that topic just came up in natural conversation. He had to get to the bottom of this for himself, and unfortunately his only hope was talking to the one person he despised.

*****SUPERNATURAL*****

Sam stormed down to the dungeon and pulled the door open in one swift movement as his shadow cast down over the devil's trap on the floor in front of him. "What did she tell you?" He stood rooted, adamant, arms crossed.

Crowley raised one shoulder and shook his head. "I've no idea what you mean."

Sam sat in the chair his sister frequented, squaring his shoulders with the King of Hell. He would get an answer. He didn't know why Elizabeth would protect Crowley when she had an obligation to her own family. She could bitch to Crowley and he could be her new best friend. That was just fine with Sam. But Elizabeth had a way of sticking to people's brains. She was like a thistle that other hunters just couldn't pick out of their skin because she had something none of them had. She had innocence and ideals. Something Sam knew, from experience, wouldn't last long. But he'd damn well make sure that she kept it for as long as she could because that was the only thing that set her apart. And if it meant keeping her on lock down at the bunker, he would make sure of it.

"I don't want you talking to my sister again." Sam had his finger threateningly pointed in Crowley's face. "Got it?"

In response, Crowley put both hands flat on the metal table and leaned forward in his chair. "Maybe, _Moose_, you should stop treating her like a child. She's not a burden on your shoulders. She's just your scared, little sister." he said squarely, happy to pick a bone with the hunter.

Sam rolled his eyes and snorted sarcastically as he sat back in his chair. "Riiight. She's just a delicate little flower. Just a link on your daisy chain. Something you can bat around and play with. Guess what, Crowley: I won't let you do that to her." His eyes narrowed threateningly as he finished.

"I understand." the King of Hell replied. There was an inflection at the very end that indicated he wasn't anywhere near done. He suddenly felt his chest tighten as a wave of human emotion washed over him, pressing him to continue. "So keeping her locked away in a hole in the ground is any different? The girl hasn't seen brighter days in the last, oh let's see, _forever_! And now she's heading full force on the self-deprecation train down the deep end." Sam sat up straight in his chair as Crowley paused, but he couldn't get a word in before Crowley continued. "You've made her so dependent on you two that she's scared out of her wits of what's going to come from this Great Oz crusade of yours. She's cursed because of her name, got two idiots for brothers, and she's got nothing else but her pretty fantasy world, cut off from what's real. Now, come on Moose, do _you_ really think _I'm_ the one who's messing with her?"

"Elizabeth's fine." Sam responded, trying to sound indifferent to everything Crowley had just said.

"Yeah?" Crowley questioned with a slight tilt of the head toward the door to the dungeon. "Ask her yourself then."

Sam pivoted just enough in the chair to meet his sister's green eyes. He couldn't tell for certain, but there was something rankling underneath all that innocence in her gaze which could very well be more than just a facade of pride. And now he saw it. The glimmer in her eyes that he had once remembered, was now dull and fading. He could see that scared little child hiding underneath pretty wrapping paper.

Crowley was right. Elizabeth was scared but that didn't make her the weak link just because it was in her nature to feel compassion. Hell, Sam had to admit that she was the strongest link in the chain between himself and Dean, even if he had never told her. She was pulling both of her brothers up by their ears, keeping them grounded and sane so they wouldn't turn into heartless, revenge-stricken warriors.

Elizabeth wasn't on the same wavelength as her brother who was staring back at her, unrelentless. He saw a brave, stubborn, strong child, which was the exact opposite of what she felt inside. Fear had a frozen paralysis over her body during this hunt for the Great Bitch Oz. The fear of the unknown had taken over. But she had kept that all locked up inside. Winchesters didn't show their weaknesses, at least not in front of one another. And now it was just out there in the open, thanks to Crowley. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head to see Crowley, her body filling with rage from betrayal. She had invented the Abaddon story to test his loyalty and prove Sam wrong. But in the end, she was the one who was on the receiving side of the line. Crowley had managed to share the one piece of information she wanted him to keep, and it made her feel worse than she could have imagined.

Eliza hesitated before returning her gaze to her older brother, knowing that he would be full of victory and silently screaming _I told you so_ through a smug face. But when she did eventually meet his eyes, she saw hints of sadness. Sam finally realized that his attempts to keep her innocence had actually been holding her back the entire time. His shoulders slumped and he was hit with the sudden realization that he was to blame for it all.

However, Eliza couldn't understand what her brother was feeling, because all she saw was sadness and, to her, sadness meant disappointment.


End file.
